


To embrace the world in grey

by tooyoungtoknow



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: All consequences of being in love, CD's, Covering up crimes, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooyoungtoknow/pseuds/tooyoungtoknow
Summary: L listens to a song, and the lyrics seem to be about Light.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	To embrace the world in grey

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, I don't really think they had and CD's in the anime or manga, but we're going to overlook that in the name of artistic freedom.

Among the many songs L knew, having been taught from a very young age, there were some which he couldn't help but think were written specifically for certain moments in his life. As a child of only nine, he could recite old lullabies and, if he'd ever tried, he would probably be let into a church quire, all courtesy of Wammy's education in music, which was, in Watari's own words, essential to a well-developed mind. When he got older he developed a somewhat heterogenous taste of his own. The songs in his repertoire were of different genres and epochs, some loud and moody, with electric guitars and charged lyrics, some quiet and sad, and with barely any music. The only rule was that, they had to mean something, and in a world where no emotion of his own was safe to show or experience freely in front of others, they felt like freedom, and breathing.

Sometimes, when he felt like the words to describe a moment were too dangerous to say, or even think, he would listen to a song, and his thoughts would be sung to him by a voice that was not his own.

In regards to Light, many songs came to mind as he watched him from the other end of the chain they had shared, day by day. "You’re so vain", when he observed him standing in front of the mirror in the morning, straightening out every crease on his shirt and brushing his hair to shining perfection, after which he would strut out of the room with the grace of a swan and smelling like cinnamon and unfulfilled desires.

"Vienna", when he sat next to L, tipping away at his computer with a zealous spark in his eyes, and an almost masochistic tirelessness, determined to prove his innocence and worth to the whole world, with himself and the taskforce in front-row seats for the spectacle. 

"Goodnight moon", when L watched him drift off in the evening, unaware of the wraiths lingering in the darkened corners of the room, and the ones under the bed which would keep the detective up through night after night.

Now, though, as he climbed a seemingly endless set of stairs that led to his room, he could think of only one song. One refrain, one simple strophe, that held all the meaning in the world. The door swung open, a slight breeze flittered in through the open window, it smelled like summer. The sky was turning a burning yellow and he hurried almost anxiously to a pile of gadgets which lay pushed in the corner. The fresh smell of the carpet hit him as his knee collided with the floor. His fingers were shaking when they came out of the cardboard box holding an unprotected CD between them. It was completely blank, and unmarked, save for a single black stroke made long ago with a permanent marker. L didn't need a name for every CD he owned. He ordered them by numbers, and stored them in nothing but a thin wrap of paper in boxes he carried around the world. The thin disc of plastic between his fingers was dirty with dust and he wiped it reverently, but gently with the hem of his shirt. 

The CD player was uncovered and unplugged, wrapped in some sort pf protective foil, which he quickly unwrapped, hearing it snap and crease under his impatient touch. He made quick work of turning the player on cursed under his breath at the sun which had began to set. Too quickly. 

His fingers trembled again as he put the CD in and waited an eternity for the little door to close. Then he clicked "Play" and walked to the window. 

He knew it would eventually come to this. His wrist was free but the red mark remained. Everywhere he went he heard an unmistakable jingle of a chain. He knew that Light remembered. He saw it in his eyes, the missing innocence, the spark of understanding that wasn't there before, the glimmer of purpose. 

The first words of the song flittered through the speaker as he contemplated that glimmer. It was truly beautiful. It could kill him, and maybe it would, but if that was the case L could not imagine a more magnificent weapon to be killed by. He had always had a penchant for being hurt by beautiful things. Music was the first one, and after it came countless others. Silver spoons, fine suits, philosophy books and sunsets to name a few. Lights hands splayed on a pillow in his sleep. Rays of the morning sun in his hair. The little sigh he let out when his back was stiff from sitting too long. 

L closed his eyes and imagined a rope around that elegant neck, poking out of a perfectly ironed white collar. He tried to tell himself that it was still his choice to make. 

The music grew in volume as the refrain he'd so desperately needed to hear began playing. 

"The sun will set for you" 

Bennington sang with that familiar, equally beautiful and painful tone of voice, which made every note he sang seem heartfelt and each lyric true. 

L imagined it was his voice that said it. That way it could be his promise. In his mind, L saw Lights face go from politely disinterested to surprised in response to his words, his eyes grow wide and scared, but of course he would try to hide it. But then L would give him smile and encircle his left wrist with pale fingers, squeezing until it hurt.

"The sun will set for you" 

He would not put a course string of rope around that neck. He would not plunge a deadly syringe into the arm that still held a red mark twin to his own. He would not let the harshness of the sun burn his Moon with its truth. He would let it set, and then let him shine in all his clever lies and half-hidden glory. 

"And the shadow of the day will embrace the world in grey"

He would color the world gray to save a killer and never mourn the loss of black and white his protege worshiped with a head full of martyr's dreams and the heart of a narcissistic saint. 

"And the sun will set for you"

He had been the sun, burning the shadows away and revealing the ugly nakedness of the truth, but he would set for a liar whose lies were so charming and voice so honeyed that even the burning star wanted to believe in their seductive melody. 

The song went on but it was just white noise now.

L had a private plane well stocked with English tea and an apartment in Amsterdam. Light had once told him that he wanted to travel to Europe and he deemed it a good enough place to start. He smiled to himself as the plan for their route began forming in his mind. First Amsterdam, then Rome and them perhaps Prague. He'd strap his Kira to a leather window seat so he couldn't run, bedazzle him with European capitals, dance him through museums and art galleries until he forgot about the Death note, and his justice, and the red ink that would always stain his pearly white shirts. He would keep them on the move until he heard Light laugh like an eighteen-year-old again, and then he would take him to Wammy's house, to meet the children.

He was the sun, but he was willing to set if it meant the world would became a tamer, more beautiful place with a couple more shadows to rest in, and the light of Moon to paint the roads grey.

**Author's Note:**

> You're so vain-Carly Simon
> 
> Vienna-Billy Joel
> 
> Goodnight moon-Shivaree
> 
> Shadow of the day-Linkin Park
> 
> I was born too late to be able to love and listen to Linkin Park in their earlier days. Sadly I was not too late for the disturbing news of Chester Bennington's passing. I believe every song he had ever sung now feels more ominous and tragic now that they all seem to be about him. His lyrics had always spoken to the suffering and torn deep into souls, but the scars do not seem to be healing anymore.


End file.
